


hold me tight tonight

by MoonlightBreeze



Series: Febuwhump 2021 [15]
Category: Leverage
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Child Death, Eliot Spencer Angst, Eliot Spencer's Cooking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, FebuWhump2021, Guilt, Gun Violence, I also feel like this can be read platonically if you want to read it that way, Mentions of Past Murder, Multi, Nightmares, OT3, Parker Being Parker (Leverage), Past Violence, Pre-OT3, Protective Eliot Spencer, Self-Esteem Issues, Trauma, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, brief mentions of being buried alive, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:47:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29485500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlightBreeze/pseuds/MoonlightBreeze
Summary: Sometimes the dark is a little too dark, and everyone needs a hand to hold in order to make it through the night.Or, 5 times the OT3 shared a bed.Febuwhump Day 15 - "Run. Don't look back"Warnings for past violence (gun violence, murder of a child, death of a child, imprisonment, and allusions to torture (no actual torture within)), traumatic incidents, guilt over said incidents, bad self-esteem/self-image, very brief mentions of being buried alive, and nightmares. Please keep yourselves safe! <3
Relationships: Alec Hardison & Parker & Eliot Spencer, Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer
Series: Febuwhump 2021 [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138970
Comments: 10
Kudos: 36





	hold me tight tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! Today's Febuwhump prompt is: "Run. Don't look back", which I initially planned to be an angsty Lightwood siblings fic, but that was before Leverage took over my life. I didn't intend for this to be so long or a 5 times fic, but I took a shower today and my brain exploded with FIC and wouldn't settle down until I wrote it all. So, here you go, I guess? I hope you enjoy this!
> 
> A little note: this is also my 100th fic posted to AO3!! *pauses to happy scream* And it's so purely hurt/comfort that I really feel like it's almost painfully on brand.
> 
> This is definitely a bit Eliot-centric - I have clear favourites askjfksjfs - but each one of the OT3 has a section in the 5 times. Also, there aren't any overtly romantic gestures in this fic, so if you prefer your OT3 platonic, I think this fic could certainly be read that way. 
> 
> Warnings for past violence (gun violence, murder of a child, accidental death of a child, imprisonment, and allusions to torture), memory/nightmares of traumatic incidents, guilt over said traumatic incidents, bad self-esteem/self-image, very brief mentions of being buried alive, and nightmares. Please keep your lovely selves safe! <3
> 
> With that being said, let's get on to the story! Kudos make my day and comments validate my existence, so please feel free to leave those, if you want :) And, as always, I hope you have a wonderful day/night!
> 
> ~ Em

~ **1** ~

Nightmares often came in flashes - a knife here, blood there. A child's scream, a man's laugh, a chair with someone bound to it. The nightmares had all of those things, but rarely the real event, what had actually happened. Eliot didn't know if he was grateful or not for that; the nightmares always picked out the worst parts to include. 

Flash. 

_A little girl with brown hair and pigtails, playing in her front yard with her older brother._

Flash. 

_They were staring down the barrel of a gun; Eliot's gun._

Flash. 

_**BANG!** _

“Eliot? Eliot!” Eliot woke up with a gasp and a startled cry, breathing hard. Parker and Hardison were standing on opposite sides of his bed, both dressed in pyjamas and with looks of concern on their faces. 

“You were screaming,” Hardison explained. “We had to wake you up.” 

Eliot opened his mouth to answer, but the words wouldn't come out. He gasped, gulping in huge breaths of air and choking on it a few times. Parker and Hardison waited. 

After what seemed like hours but was probably only minutes, Eliot's breathing was back under control and his heart rate wasn't skyrocketing anymore. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn't mean to wake you.” 

“Man, don't apologise,” Hardison replied immediately. “We all get nightmares, Eliot.” 

Eliot sighed, raking a hand over his face, scowling when it came back wet. “Even Nate?”

“Even Nate,” Parker confirmed. “I've heard him a few times at night.” 

They were quiet then, no one quite sure what to do next. Eliot wasn't about to recount his nightmare to them, and if he knew them at all, then he knew that they were probably aware of that, so he wasn't sure why they were still standing by his bed like they were waiting for something. 

Finally, Parker broke the silence with a soft, “Are you okay?” that made Eliot's lips twitch upwards into a smile. 

“Yeah,” he answered. He tried to give her his best reassuring look. “This ain't my first rodeo.”

“Maybe not,” Hardison conceded from beside him, “but that doesn't mean you can’t be upset about it.” 

Eliot trained his gaze on his lap and didn't say anything back. 

After a while, Parker exchanged a quick glance with Hardison, and then they were both moving closer until they were just shy of close enough for Eliot to reach out and touch, and Eliot saw Parker clear her throat and ask, “Can we stay?” 

And damn her, and damn Hardison, too, because if they'd asked if he wanted them to stay, he could have said no. But when she asked him like that, like they were the ones who wanted to stay with Eliot, not the other way around, he couldn't say no and they all knew it. 

Instead of answering, Eliot threw back the covers and moved over, finding a comfortable position on the mattress that would leave room for both of them. Parker and Hardison crowded in next to him, and there was a minute or two of flying elbows and adjustments and harsh whispers, but then they were still and quiet and curled up next to him in a way that should have been uncomfortable but really, really wasn't. 

Eliot fell asleep again that night with a hand in his air, another on his hip, and, though he was loathe to admit it to anyone else, a smile on his face. 

~ **2** ~

Parker's eyes were wide open that night, well after everyone else's had closed. 

She'd spent literal years building up those walls, and one fake psychic managed to tear them down in a matter of minutes? It wasn't fair. Just like what had happened to Daniel wasn't fair. 

Parker had to blink back tears in the darkness, remembering the accident. She hadn't been paying attention. Maybe if she had, she would have noticed him riding his bike right into the middle of the street. Maybe she could have screamed or grabbed him or done _something_ before the car hit him and his blood was on her hands and yet another set of foster parents couldn’t stand to look at her.

Maybe, if she had been better and paid closer attention, the only little brother she'd ever known would still be alive. 

The soft _click_ of a doorknob turning snapped Parker from her thoughts, and she went rigid in the bed, clutching her sheets with trepidation. Her fear disappeared, however, when the door opened and Hardison and Eliot slipped into the room.

“What are you doing here?” Parker asked them, confused. It was after midnight; they should be sleeping. 

“Girl, I can hear you thinkin' from all the way down the hall,” Hardison said, approaching her side of the bed while Eliot made his way over to the opposite side. He didn't seem angry about it, so Parker guessed her thoughts must not be quite as loud as he said they were. Regardless, she frowned at him, still confused about why they were there. 

“Did I bother you?”

Eliot chuckled a little from the left side of her bed, reaching out to tousle her hair playfully. “Nah, Parker, you didn't bother us. He's just messin’ with you.”

“Oh.” Parker wasn't sure how she was supposed to respond to that, and she was still a little confused about their presence, but not enough to warrant asking again. 

They were quiet for a few minutes after that, only the faint _tick-tock_ of the clock in the living room breaking the silence between them. It wasn't an entirely unwelcome silence for Parker, though, especially after the tiring job and the emotional upheaval of the day. It was comfortable, almost; _peaceful_.

Finally, Eliot spoke up from beside her bed and said, “We just thought you might not want to sleep alone after everything that happened today.” 

Parker turned to look at him, her confusion from before returning tenfold. “I thought sleeping together was something people did when they were having sex.” 

Eliot chuckled again at that, but he wasn't laughing at her; she didn't feel mocked. It was almost like he was laughing at _them_ , at their lives, at what they'd all managed to become in such a short period of time. It was definitely a sentiment Parker could understand. 

In the absence of Eliot answering her question, Hardison spoke up from the other side of her bed. “Sure, sometimes it can be, but that's not always what it means. Sometimes it just means what it means - you sleep with someone else. Not in a sexy way, just in a not-by-yourself way.” 

Hardison was pretty bad at explaining things, but Parker thought she understood him this time. “So when people sleep together without the sexy stuff, it makes them feel better?”

“It can,” Eliot said, smiling warmly at her. “Wanna try?”

She hesitated, then nodded, moving over a little so they would have room to squeeze in beside her. She wasn't sure she liked having people so close to her, but it was Eliot and Hardison, so it was okay. 

By the time they were all situated, Parker had decided she liked this whole 'sleeping together' thing if this was what it meant. Hardison was on her right side, and she could lay her head on his chest if she wanted, and Eliot was on her left side, and he would wrap his strong, protective arms around her, keeping her safe, if she asked him to. 

Yes, this was good. This was perfect. She liked being surrounded by people she cared about, and when she closed her eyes, she was only a little afraid of what would haunt her dreams that night, because she knew Eliot and Hardison were right there if she needed them. 

~ **3** ~ 

Not that he’d particularly wanted to be alone, anyway, but Hardison _was_ a little surprised when Eliot and Parker followed him home after the Grave Danger Job, sitting next to him in the backseat of Nate’s car all the way to his apartment where Nate dropped them off. 

“Uh, guys?” He raised an eyebrow at them as they slid out of the car right behind him. “Aren’t you going home?”

“Nope,” Eliot replied easily, and Parker just shook her head, trotting along behind Eliot while her fingers twitched in her pocket at the sight of Hardison’s locked front door. 

“O...kay,” Hardison said slowly. “Well, I only have one guest bedroom, so one of you’s gonna have to make do with the couch.” 

Eliot and Parker said nothing in response. 

Hardison unlocked the door quickly, ignoring the way his hands shook as he tried to fit the key in the lock, and Eliot and Parker followed him inside, taking in the apartment with little more than a passing interest. 

“Do you want something to eat?” Eliot asked, already heading for the kitchen without waiting for an answer. Hardison tried hard not to smile, but it was damn near impossible when Eliot made himself at home like this. It made him happy to see the people he cared about happy, and Eliot was seldom happier than when he was cooking. 

Parker found a high beam sticking out of the apartment’s ceiling and, ignoring Hardison’s protests, attached her harness to it and swayed, five feet above the ground with her eyes half-closed, to some melody only she could hear. 

Their presence made the apartment feel less like an _apartment_ and more like a home. Hardison wasn’t sure why that was, but he wasn’t about to question it; he was just glad they were there. 

Hardison had way too much nervous energy to just sit down and wait for Eliot to finish cooking, so he grabbed the TV remote and turned it onto the sports channel, losing himself in a basketball game he didn’t really care about, trying to focus on the sound of the buzzers and the squeak of the players’ shoes instead of the static in his own mind. 

Before long, Eliot called in from the kitchen to announce that the food was done, and Hardison jumped up, turning off the TV and helping Parker down from her harness-nest so they could eat. 

Dinner was mixed Italian food with bell peppers and Cajun seasoning, and Hardison would swear he’d never tasted anything so good in his _life_. Eliot beamed as they ate, and it made a soft smile bloom on Hardison’s face. Eliot was so rarely proud of himself or anything he did, and it was an amazing feeling to watch him smile like that at them while they ate the food he’d painstakingly prepared. Together, eating at the table, trading jokes and stories, Hardison almost felt like everything was normal.

Night came too quickly and with it, darkness fell. Hardison tensed, feeling apprehensive and inexplicably grateful for the lights in the house. He’d never been afraid of the dark before, but then, he supposed he’d never been trapped underground in a dimly lit coffin before, either. 

Eliot did the dishes, with Parker helping occasionally, and before long, they were turning around to look at Hardison like they expected him to say something, like they were waiting on something from him before they could go ahead and do whatever it was they were going to do. Hardison wasn’t sure what they wanted him to say, but his little flinch when Eliot turned out the light said enough. 

“Come on,” Parker said lightly, and grabbed Hardison’s hand, leading them towards his bedroom - how exactly did she know which one his bedroom was? - with Eliot following closely on their heels. 

“We’re gonna stay with you tonight,” Eliot explained when they reached his bedroom, clicking on the light and illuminating the black-and-white checkered bedspread and bright orange soda bottles on the nightstand. “If that’s alright.”

“I - yeah,” Hardison responded, surprised. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Good,” Eliot nodded, and they started to change, shedding jackets & socks and clearly indicating for Hardison to do the same. Hardison slipped out of his suit jacket & pants and grabbed a t-shirt from his closet to slip on over his boxers. Behind him, Parker was clad only in a whtie tank top and shorts, and Eliot had stripped down to those damn cargo pants he wore all the freaking time. Tears filled Hardison’s eyes, and he turned away, using one hand to wipe them. Dammit, he really loved these two idiots. 

Parker and Eliot, unbeknownst to Hardison, shared a significant look and began to move closer to the bed, turning out the light as they went. The room wasn’t dark for long; Eliot flipped the switch of the lamp on the nightstand, allowing a little light to seep into the small room. Hardison was grateful for it. 

“Come on,” Eliot said then, climbing into Hardison’s bed on the right side and pulling the covers back just enough for Hardison to slip in beside him. Hardison swallowed hard, then took Eliot’s invitation and climbed into bed next to him. Parker wasn’t far behind. 

“C’mon, man,” Eliot murmured, laying down so his chest was at the same height as Hardison’s head. Hardison took a deep breath, trying to resist the urge to cry. He knew what they were doing, and he appreciated it more than he thought he could say. He didn’t want to be alone that night, and they seemed to know it. Behind him, on his other side, Parker moved in closer and pressed herself flat against Hardison’s back, her hands drawing little circles on his shoulder blades. 

Hardison sucked in a deep breath and let himself rest his head on Eliot’s chest, feeling the warmth spread through him as he did. Eliot’s hand went to his shoulders, holding him close, and Hardison felt himself start to cry, tears raining down onto Eliot’s skin, making it damp to the touch. Eliot didn’t seem to mind, just held him tighter for it. Parker pressed a little kiss to his shoulder, and Hardison knew he was where he belonged. 

Even if the others didn’t know it yet, or didn’t want him the same way he wanted them, Hardison knew that he had found his home. These people were his people, and there was no one else he wanted next to him, for as long as they all lived. 

~ **4** ~

The lightning flashed, and a scream echoed throughout the apartment. Nate looked up from his newspaper, his gaze flitting over to Eliot’s closed door. Sophie followed it, the alarm showing clearly on her face. She raised an expectant eyebrow at the others, as if to say _What are you waiting for? Go help him!_ Parker and Hardison needed no more urging than that to leave their video game for the night and rush into Eliot’s room, where he was tossing and turning in the throes of some dream. The thunder boomed, and he screamed again. 

Carefully, Parker and Hardison approached the bed, each on different sides of him, and simultaneously reached forward to shake him awake by his shoulders. They did that for three seconds, counting each one, before taking a quick step back to avoid Eliot’s fists as he awoke from the dream swinging. 

It took a few seconds for Eliot to remember where he was, and Parker and Hardison watched with mutual relief as the panic faded from his eyes, softening to something better, something like affection or maybe even love. 

“Hey,” he croaked out, bringing one hand up to wipe the moisture from his face. 

“Hey,” Parker replied, giving him one of her biggest smiles to let him know that they weren’t put off by his nightmare or his tears. He tried to smile back at her, but it came out as more of a grimace. 

Hardison stepped forward then, placing a gentle hand on Eliot’s shoulder, and Parker did the same. They’d been friends for long enough, came so far now, that Eliot didn’t flinch at the unexpected touch. Instead, he leaned into it, welcoming it, as he struggled to catch his breath again and calm his racing heart. 

They stayed that way for a few minutes, silently helping Eliot ground himself, until Eliot looked up at them with shiny blue eyes and nodded - _I’m okay now_. Parker and Hardison stepped back, smiling at him again to let him know that they were there, that they didn’t mind, that having nightmares was nothing to be ashamed of. 

They knew that sometimes Eliot struggled to believe that, and they tried to reinforce it every time they could. 

“Sorry,” Eliot said, just like he always did, and Hardison rolled his eyes. 

“Will you quit sayin’ you’re sorry like you’ve got anything to be sorry for?” He glared at Eliot, but there was no heat behind it. He turned to Parker, rolling his eyes again. “Damn guy always finds somethin’ to apologise for.” 

That made Eliot smile, just a little, but Hardison and Parker counted it as a win. 

Parker was the first to move, and it was just because she was tired of standing; she took a seat on the end of Eliot’s bed, crossing her legs underneath her. Hardison followed suit, stretching out lazily like a cat. They were on the wrong side of the bed, facing Eliot instead of the door, but somehow, it didn’t matter. 

Eliot half-smiled, just a little quirk of his lips, and grabbed his pillow, scooting forward until he was laying between them at the foot of his bed. Their movement was simultaneous; Parker shifted, wrapping her arm around Eliot’s waist, and Hardison rolled over so he could hold Eliot’s shoulders. Together, they cocooned him against them, and they could see that it worked, as all of the tension bled out of Eliot and he sank into the mattress between them. 

“Go to sleep,” Parker whispered. “We’ll still be here in the morning.” Hardison nodded against Eliot’s neck, confirming her statement. Eliot didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. They knew he got the message. 

~ **5** ~

Sometimes, even though they usually did, his nightmares _didn’t_ come in flashes. Sometimes Eliot’s nightmares were vivid and real and made him feel like he was back there, in whatever situation the nightmare was made of, like he’d never escaped or moved on or fought his way out and he was still _there_ , replaying the events over and over again like a broken tape recorder. 

That was the case with his nightmare that night. 

_Their accents were thick; Russian, Eliot thought to himself. Russian mafia. They thought they could keep him, thought they could break him. They didn’t know him. They didn’t know what he’d done. But none of that mattered now. They had a little girl with them._

_The little girl was blonde-haired with bright blue eyes and a toothy grin. She liked Eliot, for some reason, and tried to stay close to him, even when her mafia parents told her no and explained she couldn’t be making friends with the enemy. It broke Eliot’s heart and made rage boil beneath his skin when he saw her father take a belt to her backside one stormy day in particular, and he’d shouted and screamed at them in vain for days afterward._

_On the night that Eliot escaped, the girl had had a huge fight with her father, and she was crying when she came to see Eliot in his cell._

_“Daddy doesn’t love me anymore,” she’d told him, tears streaking her cheeks and making what was left of Eliot’s heart after the torture hurt so much he almost wished he didn’t have one. “He says I’m not cut out to be a mafia daughter. He said he’s going to get rid of me!”_

_Eliot’s blood ran cold at that; there was no way he was letting them kill her, no way in **hell**. He escaped that night, scraping half of his body bloody as he crawled his way out of the space between the bars of his cell, the space he’d been creating for two weeks and hadn’t planned on finishing for one more. _

_He found the girl quickly, and he grabbed her and pulled her towards the exit, his heart pounding painfully in his ribcage. She was quiet, just quiet enough for him to trust her not to give them away, and they made steady progress towards the door that would take them out of the mafia’s underground prison. They were almost,_ almost _there when her father came barreling down the hall, yelling and cursing and shouting her name._

_“Go!” Eliot shouted, shoving her towards the door in front of him. “Run. Don’t look back.” He darted out the door right after her, slamming it in her father’s face before he could follow them out. They ran for miles, it seemed, before Eliot felt safe enough to stop. They set up shelter for the night in an abandoned house on the outskirts of town, and Eliot held the little girl close while she slept. Eventually, he dozed off himself._

_Eliot woke to the sounds of screaming._

_The Russians were back, wrenching the girl from his arms, and Eliot was on his feet then, punching and fighting and defending her for all he was worth, and somehow, in the thick of it, there was a gunshot and then blood and then everything stopped._

_Eliot dropped to his knees beside her body, peeling his jacket off and trying in vain to stop the bleeding. Her eyes were dead and lifeless, and they reminded him of the eyes of his victims, all the people he’d killed, and he SCREAMED, ignoring the shouts and the punches of the Russian mafia still trying to get him under control, and for just a minute, everything was pain and everything was despair and Eliot didn’t know if he could do this anymore._

_She was dead, and it was his fault. Her blood was on his hands, literally, and the sight of it made him sick, and he was crying despite himself, but he couldn’t **help it** , because she was so small and she didn’t DESERVE this, not like he did, and - _

“Eliot? Eliot! Wake up, man, _Eliot!_ ” 

Eliot woke up screaming, his hands clenched into fists, and he stopped just short of punching Parker and Hardison, who were standing beside his bed with worried looks on their faces. Parker was crying, and he realised a few seconds later that the odd choking sound in the room was coming from _him_ ; he was sobbing like he was still back there, her little body on the ground next to him, her blood on his jacket and his hands, and for a few seconds more everything was wrong and Eliot wasn’t sure it would ever be _right_ again. 

He wasn’t sure how long it took him to calm down - a few seconds, probably, at the most, but it felt more like hours - but by the time he had, Parker and Hardison were in his bed, their hands on his shoulders, and they were both crying, too. Eliot clenched his hands so tight that his nails dug bloody indents into his palms, and tried to catch his breath. It was fine. He was fine. He was with Parker and Hardison; he was safe. 

It still didn’t change the events of his nightmare, or the fact that they had really happened, and now that the memories were fresh in his mind, he knew they weren’t going away anytime soon. He hated that Parker and Hardison were seeing him like this, but he supposed he’d rather them than Nate or Sophie. They were closer. They understood him more, had seen more of him, and felt different than Nate and Sophie did. 

“Hey,” Hardison said after a minute or two. “You back?”

Eliot nodded wordlessly, too exhausted from his dream and the crying to properly answer him. Parker and Hardison seemed to understand, moving closer so they could hug him from each side. He sighed, trying in vain to wipe the tears away, but it was too much. His hands were wet and his chest hurt from crying and he _hated_ this but he guessed he didn’t really have a choice. Neither Parker nor Hardison seemed too keen to leave him be, and secretly, he was grateful for it. 

Before long, Hardison gave his shoulder a gentle nudge and gestured towards his pillow, raising an eyebrow. Eliot shook his head, a little frantically. _No. No, I don’t want to go back to sleep._

“That’s okay,” Hardison said immediately, nodding a little to show Eliot he understood. “We don’t have to sleep.”

“Yeah,” Parker chimed in, smiling at him. “We’ll just lay together like we do when I can’t sleep or Hardison wants to play with his star projector.” Eliot shot her a grateful glance and followed their gentle urgings toward his pillow and the bed until he was laying down, facing Parker, with Hardison at his back. 

Hardison’s hand in his hair and Parker’s face at his collarbone almost made Eliot cry again, just because he was so lucky and he had no damn idea how he’d ended up with two people like them in his life, especially after everything he’d done. He didn’t deserve them. 

Still, he didn’t think he was ever going to find anyone else that would hold him like he was special, like he was precious and meant something to the world, like he was more than just another damned soul trying to redeem itself before it was too late. They were a gift, and he’d be damned if he was going to waste it. 

With that, Eliot closed his eyes and allowed Parker to wrap her arms around him, let Hardison slide his hands up and down his back in a comforting manner, and he breathed, slow and deep, until he felt like everything might be okay again. 

~ ~ ~

**Author's Note:**

> [Stalk me on Tumblr](https://moonlight-breeze-44.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Prompts are open!
> 
> Want to scream about Leverage with other fans? [Join the multifandom Discord server](https://discord.gg/82pvdE39fD) I run with my friends! We welcome everyone, and we would love to have you. <3


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